Where Writing Leaves Off, Music Picks Up

“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent.”
~Victor Hugo 

I just finished reading Ms. L.’s blog post from last night.  I swear sometimes when she writes a post it’s almost like she tuned into something that I was already thinking about and wanted to say but somehow couldn’t actually find the words to say it.  And then I usually read her post and it helps me put what I wanted to say into perspective.  

She talked about the musician side of her and while I must say I don’t have the songwriting capability that she has, I too, have had dreams of being on the stage singing with the whole shebang, lights, cameras, band, and background singers.  Now it’s usually hard for me to toot my own horn most of the time but there are two things that I have no problem acknowledging that I am good at, my writing (of course) and my singing.  

I can still sing, or at least carry a more decent tune than most, but there was once a time when I really (really) used to be able to sing.  I had a really good range and I could hold a note for a really long time.  I might have had a little too much vibrato at times but it could’ve been managed.  

I miss the times when I used to just pull out my stacks of CDs and just hold my own personal concert in my house.  Sometimes there would even be an occasional group of my friends (of course they could sing too) and we would do group songs, duets, and each would take turns being the soloist.  Those were really fun times.  

Singing was my release, almost as much as writing was.  In fact when I wasn’t writing you would more than likely find me singing.  Even when my daughter was a baby I would sing to my daughter and it would literally lull her right to sleep.  I would still get together with that group of friends and we would sing to entertain her and she loved it.  

I never really thought about the possibility of writing songs until recently, partly because I feel my voice wasn’t what it once was and I realize that I might never get to contribute to the music industry the way I had once intended to, on stage.  I’ve even been told all throughout my time of writing poetry that I had some poems that have the potential of making really good songs.  The problem with that would be that, unlike Ms. L., I can not write or read music, so I’m always left with this melody of something in my head that I can’t for the life of me (because I’m getting old and my memory isn’t what it once was) remember later. 

Sometimes I do feel like I am really missing out on something by not getting some piano lessons and perhaps beginning to actually write my own songs to sing.  But I suppose that if it’s meant to be for me to create music, because it is ingrained inside of me, then it will be present within my journey.  

I do, however, miss the days of gathering up my stacks of CDs and cranking my stereo up, and singing for hours on end.  Music has a way of healing my spirit in ways that sometimes (very rarely) writing can’t.  When I can’t find the words to convey what I am feeling, I can always find the song.  It’s as if it picks up where writing leaves off and then allows my writing to weave its way back in.  

“Where words fail, music speaks.”

~Hans Christian Andersen 


Jimmetta Carpenter


The Diary: Succession of Lies (Now Available)

Writing as “Jaycee Durant”







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